


Vedra-Prah

by Wolfloner



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Culture, Alien Technology, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Inspired by Fanfiction, James T. Kirk Has Issues, James T. Kirk Has PTSD, Kirk does what he wants, Mental Health Issues, My First Fanfic, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, like from 2 years ago, we don't talk about the pre-teen days here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:21:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24184279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfloner/pseuds/Wolfloner
Summary: After learning of the technique Spock uses to "strengthen his mental controls", there's little that will stop Jim from finding out everything he can about it.And try it for himself.It goes about as well as he should have expected.First written back in March of 2018 after reading the very lovely fic, "Strength Training" by WeirdLittleStories. Then I never touched it again. Until today.It's a sequel of sorts of WLS's fic, and I recommend reading that one first.Rating is for language.
Relationships: James T. Kirk & Spock
Comments: 13
Kudos: 18





	Vedra-Prah

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WeirdLittleStories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdLittleStories/gifts), [QuietCanadian9](https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietCanadian9/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Strength Training](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2683304) by [WeirdLittleStories](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeirdLittleStories/pseuds/WeirdLittleStories). 



> Yeep. Like I said, wrote this back in 2018. Didn't really plan to do anything with it. But I showed it to a friend earlier and started editing it and, uh.  
> This happened.  
> It's mostly the same as it was 2 years ago, just with fewer commas, lolol.  
> I haven't really touched the Spirk fandom in a while because whenever I do I get sucked in hard and don't resurface for like 3+ months at a time. Not a bad thing, of course. But I know me.  
> So this is a weird mix of AOS and Fanon and probably just stuff my brain decided at some point.  
> Hope y'all enjoy!

Jim stood in the restroom that joined his and Spock's quarters. He hovered by the door to Spock's room, teetering back and forth between bothering his first officer.

Because that’s what he'd be doing. Bothering him. After Spock's revelation about how he went about "strengthening his emotional control" two weeks ago, Jim hadn't been able to stop thinking about it. The little silver  _ thing _ had barely looked like anything at all, nevermind something that could cause Spock such intense pain.

He had to know how it worked. And that meant asking Spock.  _ Bothering _ Spock. He hadn't wanted to divulge the existence of this practice to begin with, and Jim felt sure Spock wouldn't be keen on dealing with his questions.

But since the situation was driving him to distraction—too much longer and it would start affecting his ability to do his  _ job, _ he decided he should at least ask. And so, with three sharp raps on the door, he knocked. "Spock? Can I come in?" 

He was met with silence, which was slightly worrisome. He knew Spock was in his quarters, had seen him enter less than an hour ago. "Spock?" He called again.

"No." Well, that was something. It was weird, but it was something. Not,  _ Negative, _ or  _ I am preoccupied, _ simply,  _ No. _

Jim frowned. He briefly considered simply overriding the lock on the door, but he didn’t wish to betray Spock's privacy to that extent. Still was also used to generally getting his way. "Spock," he repeated. "Are you doing the thing? The mental strength training thing?"

Jim heard movement from within the room. He expected to hear footsteps and Spock coming up open the door. Instead, all he got was, "Yes,  _ Captain, _ and I would prefer not to be disturbed." 

And now Jim was  _ Captain. _ Great. That was probably as close as Spock got to telling someone to  _ fuck off. _ His frown deepened and he made sure to huff as audibly as possible before turning around and leaving Spock alone. He would just have to try again another time.

* * *

The next morning found Jim standing outside of Spock’s quarters, though this time it was the main entryway. If Spock looked surprised to see him when the door whooshed open, it was only for a fraction of a second, and Jim would never mention it.

“Jim.” Spock nodded. Good, he was back to  _ Jim.  _ Hopefully, that meant Spock wasn’t too upset with him.

“Mornin’, Spock.” The two began walking in synchrony towards the bridge. “Look, about yesterday…” Jim stopped walking, and it took an extra two steps before Spock slowed and turned to look at him.

“Jim, it would be inappropriate for us to delay our arrival on the bridge for non-emergency matters.”

Jim huffed, not unlike he had the day before. “I’m trying to apologize, Spock. I knew what you were doing, and it was  _ inappropriate _ for me bug you like I did.”

Spock mouthed the word bug, before resuming his path towards the bridge. “Your apology is accepted, Captain.”

They weren’t on duty yet, and Jim knew Spock was doing his best to separate himself from the conversation. “I want to know how it works.” He caught up easily. “You can’t just show a guy an amazing piece of technology like that and not expect me to want to know everything about it!” And sure, that was a sizable part of Jim’s motivation. How did the damned thing  _ work? _ He had a few dozen questions ready.

Spock didn’t sigh. “Very well. If you meet me in my quarters at 1900 hours we can discuss it.”

_ Yes! _ “What’s it called? If we just keep using pronouns, that could get confusing.”

“You could not pronounce the name, Jim.” 

Jim rolled his eyes. He had managed to pronounce phrases is Vulcan just fine. But if that’s the game Spock wanted to play, he could work with that. “I’m gonna give it a name, then.” He warned. At Spock’s raised eyebrow, he continued, “I’m gonna call it  _ The Bean _ unless you give me a better name.”

They had entered the turbolift, and this conversation was nearing an end. Jim could tell that Spock was curious about the name, but didn’t challenge it. Then they were on the bridge, and Jim started counting the hours until he could get his questions answered.   
  


* * *

1900 hours hadn’t gotten there fast enough. Jim didn’t even bother with knocking, he just let himself into his first officer’s quarters with no preamble. Spock was sitting at his desk and didn’t seem bothered by Jim’s lack of courtesy. In fact, he probably had come to expect it. Honestly, Jim knocking on the door, as he had the night before, was far stranger.

Jim sat down across from Spock and eyed the small wooden box that sat among the PADDs that Spock had been working on. “Is that it?” He asked, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. 

Spock didn’t roll his eyes at Jim’s obvious question, and he definitely didn’t sigh. “Yes.” He opened the box, and there it was.  _ The Bean _ . A small silver contraption that Jim couldn’t wait to get his hands on to unlock all its secrets.

He was in the middle of reaching across the desk for it when a thought came to him. “Is it gonna hurt me if I touch it?”

Spock arched an eyebrow. “Of course not. Nor is it capable of harming you.” 

Jim picked it up, turning it over carefully. Its entire surface was the same polished silver, and he couldn’t glean any hint to the  _ how _ of its function. “What do you mean it’s not capable of harming me?” He finally asked.

“You can’t turn it on.”

Jim frowned at that. “Explain.”

“It has a biometric lock.”

“What, like a fingerprint?” Jim turned the device around in his hand again, even though he already knew he wouldn’t be able to find any obvious fingerprint scanner.

“It requires my DNA signature.” At Jim’s questioning look, Spock continued, “It unlocks via a blood sample, which it gathers with a finger prick.”

“What?” Without thinking, Jim practically lurched across the desk and grabs Spock’s hand, carefully investigating the tips of his fingers, vaguely aware that his distress at the idea of Spock  _ bleeding _ was irrational. It took a solid three seconds before Jim recognized that the other man had stiffened, and another before his eyes grew wide and he released him. “Fuck, Spock, I’m sorry.” Spock pulled his hand back as if he’d been burned.

“It’s alright,” Spock finally offered. “I did not expect such a strong reaction from you.” 

Jim felt his face warm in embarrassment. “Sorry. I don’t…” Jim wasn’t sure what he wanted to say. He wasn’t sure why he’d reacted so strongly. He knew damn well that Vulcan’s didn’t like being touched, being touch telepaths and all. He hoped he hadn’t forced any unpleasant emotions onto Spock. He cleared his throat. “Right. So, you prick your finger and it turns on? What happens next?”

When Spock held out his hand for  _ The Bean _ Jim passed it back, being extra careful not to touch Spock again. “From there I place it against my skin, which it adheres to. It then activates my nociceptors so that my brain believes I am in pain.”

Jim licked his lips again, slightly entranced. “How does it do that?”

Spock paused. “Are you asking for the chemistry behind it?”

At Jim’s nod, Spock went into full Lecture Mode. Jim got the distinct feeling he should be taking notes of some sort like he’d be quizzed on this later. Spock explained how the device had different intensity settings, how this one had been specially crafted for his unique biology on Vulcan-that-was. He assured Jim that he always placed it on the same part of his body, so should anything ever happen and he was knocked unconscious while using it—again—Jim or Doctor McCoy would know where to check for it. He had even lifted his shirt to show the location just below his ribs, which Jim had to remind himself to  _ not touch _ , even if it was motivated out of concern. 

“Can this thing be weaponized?” Jim asked thoughtfully.

“I have already stated that I am the only one who can turn it on.”

“Right. But like, if you turned it on, could it, in theory, be used to hurt someone else?”

Spock stared at him, his concern only evident in the smallest twitch of his lips. “Theoretically, I suppose so.” 

And then Jim was struck with an idea that he was pretty sure was terrible. He wasn’t in the least bit surprised by it, though. “I want to try it.” He hoped he was succeeding at keeping his face even, but doubted it.

“No.”

“Just for a few seconds.” He knew Spock was right to refuse him, but now curiosity had gotten the best of him. “Besides, isn’t it better to have at least one other person on board who  _ really _ knows how it works? Not just at an intellectual level, but experiential?”

Spock’s eyebrows twitched towards each other, and it was obvious he didn’t like this train of thought one bit. “There is no need for anyone besides myself to understand the experiential side of the device.”

“What about letting me try just to sate my curiosity?” If poorly thought out logical arguments weren’t going to work Jim figured honesty was the next best thing. 

Spock continued staring at him across the desk. “Why would you be curious about it? Did my descriptions of its mechanisms not suffice?”

“It’s not that,” Jim frowned, more at himself than at Spock. “It’s more like…” He let out a long breath. “The other day you compared it to lifting weights, right? Well, you’ve lifted weights with me. You’ve sparred with me. You’ve helped me with all of that side of things.” He paused, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. “And all of that’s true, but also I’m being selfish. I want to put myself up against it, and see if I can overcome it.”

Spock’s eyes softened, but Jim was talking again before he could interject. “I’m not expecting to manage it like you do. Be all expressionless and shit, I understand that it’ll hurt. That’s the whole point. But still…” he trailed off, not sure how else to explain his motives.

“Three seconds.” Spock finally allowed. “At the lowest setting.” Jim grinned at him, knowing how feral and manic he had to look. He watched with fascination as Spock carefully held  _ The Bean _ to his index finger. He didn’t see the tiny needle that Spock had described to him, nor did Spock give any outward indication that his skin had been pierced. However, the device lit up in a calming shade of blue, and Jim made a mental note to ask about  _ that _ later. Spock spun his finger counterclockwise once over the smooth surface before looking up and meeting Jim’s eyes.

“How many settings does that thing have?”

“Twenty.”

“What setting do you usually use?”

“Ten.”

“And now it’s on one?”

“Affirmative.”

Jim’s mouth went dry and he held his arm out towards Spock. The Vulcan arched one eyebrow and carefully grasped Jim’s arm. When the device was only a few centimeters away he paused. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

Jim didn’t trust himself to speak and instead gave a sharp nod. 

At first, all he felt was the smooth metal against his skin. It occurred to him that if this had been created with Spock’s biology in mind, it might not even work on him. 

_ The next instant, that thought was gone. The room was gone. The red drapings and sparse decorations of Spock’s room were gone. He was in the warp core and he couldn’t breathe and every atom that made up his body was pain. He was staring out of a pane of glass into engineering and he was dying from radiation poisoning. Flashes of similar memories encroached on his mind, but couldn’t take hold. _

_ And then it was worse. He was laying on moist soil. It had rained recently. He was hungry. Starving. Famished. That was the word that was used later: famine. Everything hurt and he couldn’t move. The taste of bile and grass lingered at the back of his throat. He knew he needed to move, needed to run, if he had any hope of survival. Was survival even worth it if living was this horrible? He could feel the deep bruises forming on his hips and his ass hurt. But the small loaves of bread he’d gotten weren’t going to go to waste if he could help it. There were children who needed him to function, so he willed himself to ignore his body’s protests and was back on his feet. _

Dimly Jim became aware of someone screaming. Moments later he was back in Spock’s quarters and realized that the screaming was his own. He silenced himself and retreated into a fetal position from his place on the floor. He didn’t remember falling but couldn’t think of any other reason he’d be down there. He wasn’t in pain anymore and that allowed him to take stock of his situation. His throat hurt, probably from screaming, and his face was wet. Crying? Probably. He could feel someone watching him and when he finally chanced a glance up he saw Spock’s stricken face. Human-stricken, not Vulcan-stricken. He saw Spock’s mouth moving, but it took him a moment before he recognized that he was apologizing.

“You didn’t say it made you experience memories.” Jim croaked out.

Spock knelt down next to him. “It doesn’t.”

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “Then what the  **_fuck_ ** was that?” He pushed himself backwards, away from Spock. He didn’t think he could handle being touched right then, and distantly he knew he didn’t want Spock to be assaulted with the thoughts in his head.

“I do not know what you experienced, Jim.” Jim glared at the alien kneeling near him and had to remind himself that Spock wouldn’t lie.

“I was in the warp core,” he whispered, and Jim could  _ feel _ the wave of guilt that washed over Spock. “And then I wasn’t. I was on Tarsus IV.” Jim swallowed and tried to fight back the nausea that threatened to overtake him. He also tried to focus on his breathing because he would be damned if he had a panic attack in front of Spock. In front of anyone.

Jim hadn’t mentioned Tarsus IV to Spock before. In theory, all records of his being there during the massacre were sealed, so the look of surprise on Spock’s face wasn’t unexpected.

“I apologize, Jim. This…” Spock held the item tightly in his hand. “If I had had any reason to believe it might have this effect on you I never would have allowed it to happen.”

Despite everything, Jim couldn’t suppress a snort. “You wouldn’t have allowed it?” He asked incredulously. His breathing was erratic, his chest hurt, and he could feel panic snaking its way through his veins.

Spock looked alarmed. Honestly, he had looked alarmed from the moment Jim had come back to himself. “I will alert Doctor McCoy.” Spock moved to stand up, but Jim grabbed his sleeve and pulled him back down.

“No.” He clung to Spock’s shirt, trying to hold him there. Part of him knew he was being unreasonable, but he was too preoccupied with how his chest hurt, how he couldn’t get enough air, how his shirt, his slacks, his hair, even his skin, all felt too tight like he was being closed in. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears, and was fairly sure he’d started crying again. But he didn’t want to bother Bones. He bothered him enough, far too much, all the damned time. “I’m fine.” He forced out. 

“You aren’t.”

He let go of Spock then. He glanced over and saw that the chair he’d been sitting it was still upright. He really wasn’t sure how he’d wound up on the floor. Whatever. Using the chair as leverage Jim dragged himself to his feet. “I am.” He didn’t look back at Spock as he made for the door to their shared restroom.

“Jim!” He didn’t reply and refused to acknowledge everything else Spock might have been saying. He shoved open the door and strode through the room only stopping once he was back in his own quarters. He took a moment to lock the door, sealing it so that only Bones, as the CMO, had a chance at bypassing the code. Then he slid back to the floor, folding in on himself.

He stayed that way until early the next morning when his alarm told him he needed to get ready for bridge duty.  _ Fuck _ . Maybe he would have to go talk to Bones.

**Author's Note:**

> Part of me wants to continue this, and part of me is just screaming that I have enough projects.
> 
> Leave your thoughts! Lemme know what you think!
> 
> Tumblr: [@Wolfloner-Official](https://wolfloner-official.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@Wolfloner1990](https://twitter.com/Wolfloner1990)  
> Discord: Wolfloner#9177  
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